


and in the evening i arise

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: SASO 2017 [29]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Challenge: Sports Anime Shipping Olympics | SASO 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 16:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11581554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: People said it was Atsumu who was the menace. In Shinsuke’s opinion, that only served to prove how much more dangerous Osamu was.In which Kita Shinsuke leaves, and he's late to come back.





	and in the evening i arise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 4: Quotes | [originally posted here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/23665.html?thread=14724209#cmt14724209)  
> Title: lyric from the lovely song in the prompt ♥
> 
> He's just the kind of person who can never stop moving. He's always doing something: learning a new language, meeting extraordinary people...  
> She likens it to a kite; it flies higher when a longer length of string is unleashed  
> It has made us learn to be two individuals, but also a couple at the same time  
> ― Vienna Teng, [_Flyweight Love_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBgbB_C9FMg)

He was late. The crowd parted for him like a whisper, without noticing. As Shinsuke strode briskly out of the station, pulled on his jacket and took a turn at the corner, he thought he saw a familiar silhouette melt into the crowd of downtown Kobe.   
  
It smelled like coffee and lemon cake inside the cafe, and Osamu was nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Ah, you must be Kita-sama—”  
  
_-sama_ , Shinsuke repeated with an arched eyebrow under his breath. Almost a curse, but for how dignified he made it sound, the regal tilt to his chin as he turned to face the waitress who’d spoken to him.  
  
“Yes, I am. I take it my friend was here.”  
  
She nodded, inclined her head in a slight bow and held a note out to him with both hands. “I’m so sorry, you just missed him… he left you this.”

_Come find me. I’m not gonna wait for you forever.  
\- Osamu_

Shinsuke refolded the paper into a neat, tiny square, buried it in his hand and thanked the waitress for the trouble. He thought, not for the first time, that Osamu had a shitty sense of humour.  
  
For good measure, he ordered a macchiato to go, and assured the barista he was in no hurry.

 

/

 

People said it was Atsumu who was the menace. In Shinsuke’s opinion, that only served to prove how much more dangerous Osamu was, that he looked so unremarkable next to his twin, and was more than content to remain in the shadow of that erratic sun.   
  
There was nothing about the situation that warranted sympathy. It was Osamu’s choice, not Atsumu’s, and one he was pleased with. There were many things that were Osamu’s choice.  
  
Atsumu had kissed Shinsuke once on a dare. He kissed him like he was made of moonlight, like he was a reflection with a dark side to be revered, if not feared. It had been a surprisingly chaste kiss, one that barely brushed the corner of his mouth, and Atsumu had turned stoplight-red afterwards and apologised so much that Shinsuke found the whole memory more amusing than anything else.   
  
Osamu had kissed Shinsuke once, before he locked up the club room for the last time. That kiss had tasted like heat and sweat and caramel pudding, the kind with the burnt sugar.   
  
Osamu had kissed Shinsuke twice, and lived to lick his lips, run his tongue across his teeth and tell no one.

 

/

 

“Is that for me?”  
  
Shinsuke dusted off the bench before he sat down, took another sip from the drink in his hand. The macchiato was cool by now. It was worth it, nonetheless, for the look on Osamu’s face.  
  
“I’m afraid I’ve just finished the last of it,” said Shinsuke, his greeting filled with regret, and passed Osamu the empty cup. “The bin’s next to you. Toss it for me, will you?”  
  
Osamu let out a quiet, long-suffering sigh.  
  
He threw away the cup.  
  
“You’re late. Took you long enough,” he murmured, and Shinsuke knew he was talking about more than today.   
  
He squared his shoulders, sat up straight. Before them, the port of Kobe was a shimmering, dusty rose, a pale spring sunset that rippled in the water. It was a sight he had not seen in a long while. It was, at once, less romantic and more beautiful than he remembered.  
  
“You only call me  _Kita-sama_  when you’re being sarcastic,” Shinsuke remarked.  
  
Osamu smiled. He said nothing, merely turned his palm upward and slid it off his lap onto the bench, an invitation that Shinsuke took.   
  
This was not a space they had fallen into. It was a space they had reached for and carved out, inch by inch, mile by hard-won mile. When their fingers laced together, it was not quite like breathing; they had never been so effortless, but Shinsuke held on tighter for that. Osamu had made his choice. He, too, could find it in himself to be selfish. To  _want_ , in spite of everything—  
  
Osamu’s thumb ran across the back of his knuckles. His touch was rough and urgent, and Shinsuke exhaled, let himself be  _here, now_.


End file.
